


Pigs On The Wing

by DaisyFloyd



Series: Pink Floyd Collection [1]
Category: Pink Floyd
Genre: Animals, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, One Shot, Roger's in love, Short & Sweet, Songwriting, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFloyd/pseuds/DaisyFloyd
Summary: Roger writes, and reflects what he feels.The stone isn't lighter, but having David to help him carry it makes everything a bit better. A lot better.





	Pigs On The Wing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Please note that:  
> \- This work is fictional.  
> \- English is not my first language.  
> \- I mean absolutely no disrespect to anyone mentioned in this story.

_If you didn't care what happened to me_

Roger writes with enthusiasm, as the song he is putting lyrics to sounds inside his head. He mumbles the words and concludes that they do fit with the melody he has been thinking of, and nods as he presses the pen on the paper’s surface. His little black book has been with him for many years and it holds the secrets to many of his compositions, but too many pages had been torn off and it is starting to fall apart. Some are discoloured, a few are transparent, and others filled with scribbling lines. Roger doesn’t want to let his book go, and he won’t, as long as there is still some space left to be filled with his ideas.

He glances up for a moment, to stare at the ceiling and give himself some time to think about the next phrase. He’s sitting at the piano, completely alone. He’s always the first one to arrive at the studio, usually followed by a responsible David, then an enthusiastic Rick, and finally a sleepy Nick. He doesn’t mind it because he enjoys those quiet minutes before their usual recording rampage, filled to the brim with laughs and equally frequent arguments. Their dynamic as a band is particular to say the least, but he does find it amusing and rather comforting. Like a little dysfunctional family in which everyone cares about the family’s well-being, but they may occasionally throw insults, pencils, and sometimes instruments at each other.

_And I didn't care for you_

He starts the sentence with an ‘if’ because he knows that reality is the exact opposite, and he is glad it is that way. David _cares_ , and Roger does as well.

The bassist’s inspiration is him. With his long light brown hair that everyone seems to mistake for a dark shade of some dirty blond when the lights are dim. With his strong hands he uses to play his black Stratocaster and magically give life to the most wonderful melodies Roger has ever been blessed enough to listened to. With his electric blue eyes that can transmit his emotions like a shiny mirror reflecting his soul in detail. David is the most perfect combination of the most marvellous traits, framed by a quiet and soothing voice that can send Roger over the edge with just a whisper.

They had started as just bandmates when David arrived. Then, they came to be enemies. Roger found David to be an idiot and too much of a goody-two-shoes, and the guitarist thought their lyricist was just an egocentric fool. However, that changed with time. Their differences started to make the recording sessions really interesting. Their usual discussions evolved from selfish arguments to proper creative debates, and after breaking the ice and seeing past their judgements, they found that they had more in common than they had initially thought.

Once Syd left, Roger was devastated. David took the time to collect the pieces of his broken heart and try to put it back together.

Now that Roger sees the truth beneath his eyes, he has no doubt that David’s smile is the most imperfectly beautiful one the world has ever beheld. He wouldn’t mind to see it until the end of his life, waking up next to him. He would love to feel his skin on a regular basis. He is relieved, and sighs, because he knows it is just starting. He has plenty of time to wonder if David thinks the same about him, so lost and completely enamoured, or if it’s just Roger’s usual overdramatic reactions. He can ask later.

_We would zigzag our way through the boredom and pain_

He remembers how hurt he was the night it all started, and how Dave comforted him like no one else could. But he also remembers many other opportunities where David showed him how much he loves him.

Roger’s grief for his father never seems to end, and the most painful moments come out of nowhere, at the most unexpected times. However, David _stays_. Holding him in his arms, and not telling him he should stop crying about it. Just supporting him, letting him know that he would never abandon him, and caressing his hair. Kissing his tears away. Roger feels, since that evening they spent working on a few songs and accidentally touching hands, that he has found the right person.

He wants to write something perfect, but he knows that nothing can be compared. David is just unreachable, and there aren’t enough words to describe how grateful Roger feels because he has him as a bandmate who comes up with the most astonishing riffs, as a friend who is capable of listening to his problems and try to help find a solution, as a boyfriend who gifts him flowers, and as a lover he can get tangled between the sheets with.

_Occasionally glancing up through the rain_

Sometimes, his life feels like an unending thunderstorm. With Mother always getting in the way and making him doubt his ability to carry on with his life on his own, with that huge pile of love he has to give to his father but can’t, with the constant fights with his only brother, and even with the internal conflicts that attack Pink Floyd now and then. Not to mention his own internal dilemmas, insecurities and flaws he is very aware of. Sometimes, he feels just like a waste of space.

Then David appears and talks to him, and all of the sudden the world feels like a great place.

David remembers him of a delicate winter breeze, of a soft flower, of a strong pillar sustaining a castle. He has that particularly captivating way of speaking, which makes everything said by him sound like the most poetic verses. He’s incredibly organised, and Roger’s a mess. However, David finds him to be a _beautiful mess._

_Wondering which of the buggers to blame_

There’s many, many reasons why Roger considered suicide.

The most frustrating thing for Roger about his father’s absence is that he can’t get him back, and he can’t put a bullet in anyone’s head because of it. The ones who caused the war in the first place are long dead by now, and Roger doesn’t feel relieved. Not even _close_.

But he had to die for something. He knows there must be a good reason as to why Eric Fletcher Waters died. A reason to make everyone feel a little closer to him, and help them to understand why it happened in the first place. There has to be a reason. Roger didn’t spend all those afternoons watching the other kids play with their dads _just because_.

Maybe sometime, in another life, or maybe buried three meters under where the flowers bloom, he will meet his father again.

That promise kept him alive for many years. Now its different. Now he stays alive because he _wants to._

He makes music. He writes. He likes to smell the flowers during spring. He likes how the wind can play with his hair. He adores to see the wonderful colours of the sky during the sunset. He also finds the sunrise to be very beautiful, and the many opportunities a day can offer. He loves his friends, and he loves Dave. There’s many reasons to stay.

And even though he can’t talk to him and confirm it, he’s sure his father would like him to stay.

_And watching the pigs on the wing_

Mother says he was a good man, honest and kind. Roger used to sit for hours and listen to her ramble about how much she missed him, but those days are long gone. He stopped asking about Eric when he was in his teens, as he became more and more aware of how painful the subject truly is.

Mother says that Roger’s got his father’s eyes.

_You know that I care what happens to you_

Roger spends way too much time thinking about the past. He wants to reflect his present on the lyrics he is currently writing, so he tries to dismiss the distracting thoughts and focus again. He looks down and touches the fresh ink, which stains the tips of his fingers. They are calloused and slightly injured for playing too much.

_And I know that you care for me too_

Dave’s touches are still on Roger’s skin. Roger caresses his own face, tracing over where his lover’s lips had been the night before. His cheek becomes stained with ink, but he doesn’t mind.

He is still coming to terms with this new part of himself, the one that is truly capable of loving and be loved. He is just staring to discover it, and to explore all the things that come with it.

_So I don't feel alone on the weight of the stone_

Roger smiles. He knows that’s true.

Having a companion is better than walking alone. He is _tired_ of walking alone. He has been doing just that for his entire existence, convinced it’s the only way to live. Now he has tasted something different, and he realizes how wrong he had been. There’s something so appealing and interesting about having someone expecting you to continue trying.

The way they talk, referring to each other by their surnames, just as a little plaything. The way they discuss creative choices, adding up their ideas that don’t tend to be similar. There’s something so magical and unexplainable about all that, and Roger is mesmerised.

_Now that I've found somewhere safe to bury my bones_

Mother may not like their relationship, but Roger doesn’t care either. For the first time he feels he _owns_ his decisions. David is proud of him.

_And any fool knows a dog needs a home_

In the end, the most important aspect of all this mess is that he feels loved.

Even with his difficult character, his moments of egocentrism, his awkwardness, his insecurities, his flaws, he knows that David will be there. He will hold his hand and walk with him through the fog. He will help him to carry the stone. 

Roger doesn’t want to let the weight drag him down anymore. He doesn’t need Mother to approve.

All he knows is that he is happy. Truly, wholeheartedly, genuinely _happy_.

_A shelter from pigs on the wing_

He signs the paper, looks up, and David opens the door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> It's awfully considerate of you to read my things. Thank you. 
> 
> I've been a Pink Floyd lover since I was a little girl. I really admire them, and their work is just incredible. They are my absolute favourite band. 
> 
> The fandom here isn't huge, so I figured it would be good to do my part and contribute, even if my writing isn't the best. If you're interested in my Floyd stories, I do have a couple more I could upload if you like. 
> 
> Please leave a comment, I love to read comments! And again, thanks for reading.


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